Sleeping Loony
by Meltha
Summary: Chapter 10 up, now COMPLETE.  A very fractured version of Sleeping Beauty.  Third in the fairytales from the Hellmouth series.
1. Default Chapter

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  This is the third in a series of fairytales from the Hellmouth.  There are ten chapters, and yes, they are all finished.  I'm just putting them up a few at a time.

Sleeping Loony

Chapter One 

            Once upon a time, a long time ago, in the kingdom of Sunnydale, there lived a very happy king and queen -- not that the average royal couple would be happy ruling a land situated on the Hellmouth.

            "Hey, we bought the property for the castle dirt cheap!  Besides, nothing bad has happened yet."

            We're four sentences into the story; even I don't move that fast.  Anyway, the king was wandering around the garden one day, blending in perfectly with the tropical flowers due to his loud Hawaiian shirt, when the queen came running out of the castle, her red hair flying behind her, carrying an opened envelope.

            "She's arriving tonight!" the queen enthused as she started to jump up and down like someone had lit her shoes on fire.

            "Who?" asked the perpetually clueless king.

            The queen whipped her crown off and thwacked him upside the head.  "You doofus!  Our new adoptive daughter from England!  How could you possibly forget that you're going to become a father?"

            "I've been busy contemplating the expiration date of Twinkies," he explained.  

            The queen looked as though she were going to be angry, but then she realized that thinking about the expiration date of a Twinkie was almost the equivalent of trying to understand the concept of eternity, so she decided to let it go.

            Just after sunset, the Aurelius Adoption Agency dropped off a tiny bundle wrapped in pink blankets outside the castle's front door.  Oddly enough, they didn't come inside, muttering something about not having an invitation, then left abruptly.  The baby had masses of dark hair and large, luminous blue eyes.  

            "Aww, who's the prettiest little baby in the whole kingdom?"  the king said as he tickled her chin.  "Kitchee-koo!  Kitchee-kitchee-koo-OOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!"

            The infant, who had slipped into game-face, had promptly bitten his index finger and was trying to drain him with her itsy-bitsy fangs.

            "She's a vampire!" the king shrieked as he pulled his finger away from her sharp incisors.

            "Well, duh, kind of figured that out," the queen replied in a slightly annoyed voice.  "But she's also our daughter.  You go inside and start blacking out the nursery's windows, and I'll perform that soul-restoration spell of Miss Calendar's."

            The king, although he still looked rather sulky about having a vamp for a daughter, decided that he could find it in his heart to accept her as his child and went to carry out his wife's requests.

            "Um, excuse me, two things.  First off, just wanted to say thanks for the niceness in the last sentence.  Most writers don't seem to like me all that much."

            S'okay.  What's the other thing?

            "Why do I have to block out the windows myself? I mean, I am the king; don't we have servants or something?"

            Nope, not a servant to be seen.  You spent the money that would have gone for their wages this year on snack food at Mr. Bulky's.  Hence, no help. 

            "Oh.  Okay."

            Back to our story.  The king and queen decided to invite all the people of the kingdom to a party to celebrate the arrival of their new princess.  However, there was a bit of a debate over the guest list.

            "I am not inviting your ex-girlfriend to the celebration!"

            "Come on, I know she's a pain, but she might turn out to be an even bigger pain if we snub her," the king said 

            "Oh, you mean like the way she snubbed me all through high school?  Nothing doing.  I actually want to have a good time at this party, not just listen to her whine about how badly dressed everybody is!"

            "You've got a point.  Okay, we ax the wicked debutante from the guest list.  After all, what could she possibly do?  Threaten us with a spatula?"

            And thus they sealed their doom.

            One week later, the welcoming bash for the little, now permanently ensouled, vampire was held.  Each of the guests presented a gift to the child.

            "I decided to go the practical route," said their best friend, the Slayer.  "Here, open it!"

            "Aww, you shouldn't have," said the red-haired queen when she had unwrapped the gift.  "A certificate for a year's worth of therapy when she's eighteen!  How perfect!"

            The Slayer beamed.  After all, anybody who lived in Sunnydale for any length of time needed serious psychological help.

            "Oh, come on! Living here isn't that bad.  I keep most of the creepy crawlies at bay."

            Honey, this town would make Santa Claus turn into a paranoid schizo with a death wish.  Trust me, you gave the gift that keeps on giving.

            "Well, okay, but I still think I would have gotten her something cuddlier."

            Fine, you also gave her a pink plush stuffed pig just like yours; feel better?

            "Much!"

            Moving on, then.  Three of the guests stepped forward together to offer their presents to the little princess.  A hush fell over the assembled throng as they realized who they were:  the Three Good…

            "Please tell me the next word you type isn't going to be 'fairies,' cause I just can't take it."

            Okay, Mr. Sensitive, I'll just call you the Three Good Beings; feel better?

            "Much!"

            I aim to please.  The first of the beings - who was a tall, dark, handsome vampire - stepped forward to offer his gift to the child.

            "My present to the little princess is the ability to be cryptic, just like me."

            The queen and the king just stared at him.

            "I told you we should have uninvited Deadboy," the king muttered.

            "I heard that.  The princess will know all kinds of esoteric, strange things, even pieces of the future, and she'll always have a mysterious allure about her because she'll keep the info back until the last possible second," he explained as he gave the couple a pained look.  "Hey, we're supposed to give something that echoes our own personality.  It was either this or a penchant for turning evil and wearing leather."

            "Well, um, thanks.  That's a really… creative gift," the queen said as she hugged her old friend and shot her husband a dirty look

            The next being stepped forward and gave the baby a huge grin.  The child immediately started to wail in fear, probably because the guy was green and had horns.

            "No accounting for taste," the lounge singer pouted.  "Well, my gift is that the princess will always be surrounded by music.  She'll be able to find the inner harmonies of everything around her, from the beating of the human heart to the thin music of a star a million light years away."

            "Wow.  That's… deep," the king said in awe.

            "Yeah, isn't it?  She'll also have an insatiable desire to sing karaoke in a few years, but I wouldn't worry about that," he said as he stepped back and allowed the third being to come forward.

            "My gift…" he began, but he was interrupted by a blast of purple smoke and an ear splitting whine.

            "I didn't get invited!"  screamed the person who had erupted out of the floor.  

She was a very pretty, very well accessorized young woman with long brown hair.  As she raised her hand, the others caught sight of the most powerful weapon known to humankind.

"Look out!"  shouted the lounge lizard.  "She's packing a Gold Card!"

"That's right, honey.  So, the queen who got her wardrobe from Sears and the king of the dorks decided to blackball me, eh?  Well, I still get to give your daughter my gift.  Before the sun sets on her eighteenth birthday, she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die," the fashion maven declared in ringing tones.  "Oh, and she'll also have really bizarre taste in clothes, which is a fate worse than death."

"Wait a minute; time out.  I'm a vampire, and I know perfectly well the only ways to kill us are a stake to the heart, beheading, or burning us to a crisp.  How does pricking her finger on a spinning wheel spindle kill her?"

Well, oh broody one, normally it wouldn't kill a human, either, but it's the major key point of the original story.  So, for the purposes of this parody, you can add "pricking finger on a spindle" to the list of ways to dust a vamp.

"Nobody folds, spindles, or mutilates my daughter," the king yelled in fury.  "Besides, you don't have any magic powers!"

"Oh yes, I do.  I accidentally de-ratted Amy when I spilled a bottle of Coca-Cola on her.  It was the anti-charm.  Who knew?  She was so grateful, she transferred all her powers to me."

"Yup, I did," Amy responded as she stepped out of the crowd for a brief cameo.  Then she walked out the front door of the castle, never to be seen again.

The brunette disappeared, laughing maniacally, in another explosion of violet smoke.  Everyone in the room was stunned.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again:  major bitca," the queen said, breaking the silence.  Then she started to cry hysterically.

"Fear not, sweet hacker.  I have not yet given the child my gift," said the third being.

"Can you fix it, G-Man?" asked the king hopefully.

"Not completely, and please stop calling me that," he said in his British accent as he grabbed the bridge of his nose to ward off a rapidly approaching tension headache.  "I can, however, soften the spell.  Originally I was going to give her the gift of great intellect, but instead I declare that instead of dying, she will fall into a deep sleep and will be awakened by her true love's kiss."

Thunderous applause broke out from the assembled throng as they gave him a standing ovation.

"Applause?  For me?"

I always thought you were under appreciated in the Scooby gang.  Consider it payback.

"My, how very nice."

Don't mention it.  Unfortunately, there was still the big problem of how to keep the little princess safe until after sunset on her eighteenth birthday.  After all, the evil fashion consultant could try to off her sooner or maybe give her horrible breath so no one would want to kiss her, true love or not.  Since the king was goodhearted…

"Awww, thanks,"

…but basically an idiot…

"Spoke too soon, I see."

… and the queen, while highly intelligent, still had problems with her magic not going quite as planned…

"I tried to cast a protection spell on the Slayer last week and wound up dropping a llama on her.  It wasn't pretty."

… the royal couple were at their wits end about how to protect their daughter until the Three Good Beings stepped forward once again.

"It's my job to help the helpless.  We could spirit her away out to the woods and raise her as if she were our own.  Then, when she's eighteen, we'll send her home to you," suggested the dark haired vamp kindly.

"You want me to turn my daughter over to Deadboy, a geeky librarian, and a show tune spouting guy with horns who looks like he ate too much spinach?  Nothing doing!" shouted the king incoherently.

However, by this time the queen had already put her daughter into the arms of her old, brooding friend and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

"You'll take good care of her, right?" she asked him in a quivering voice.  

"I'll guard her with my unlife," he swore solemnly.

With that, the Three Good Beings melted into the shadows of the night, taking the little princess with them. 


	2. Chapter Two

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  Okay, here's chapter two.  Oh, and to answer a couple questions people asked, the Slayer shows up again, but kind of briefly and not for a while, and as for Spike… who knows?

Chapter Two 

Many years passed, and the princess grew up happily in the company of her adoptive family. 

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I have a question to ask, if I may?"

Sure, go ahead.

"All my research states that a person stops aging at the time they are s-sired.  How did the little one 'grow up,' if you see what I mean?"

Actually, your research is faulty.  If a person is turned in childhood, he or she will continue to grow until the age of eighteen.

"Really?  My research is wr-wr-wrong?"

Oh, drat.  I can't bear to see you doubt yourself.  You're absolutely right, but since I didn't want one of the main characters to remain an infant for the entire story, I bent the rules a bit.  Sorry for the fib.

"Quite alright."

Thanks.  As I was saying, the Three Beings decided to call her Black Rose, and she grew to be exceptionally beautiful in a dark, Gothic sort of way.  Life for the four of them was tranquil and pleasant… except for one minor flaw.  The child was completely out of her gourd.

"Daddy," Black Rose breathed in a Cockney accent that none of them could figure out where she'd picked up, "the teacups are chatting about the weather in Idaho again."

"Really?  That's nice, Rose," the dark haired vampire responded patiently.  "Honey, why don't you ever call the other two 'daddy'?"

"Because you're the only one who uses hair gel," she explained as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Can't argue with my little pumpkin about that," the green gentleman said as he swept into the cozy room that was the center of their little cottage.  "You do use a lot of goo."

The Englishman in the corner shook his head sadly and continued to read the latest edition of _Watcher's Weekly_.  In truth, he loved his adopted daughter dearly, but there were times he passionately wished he'd been able to give her the gift of intellect rather than the sleeping charm.  

"Rose, why don't you trip on over to the berry patch down the road and pick us a passel of nice, plump strawberries?" asked the flamboyant demon as he winked conspiratorially at the other men.  "And you remember, little missy, no talking to strangers," he added giving her an affectionate pinch on the nose.

"I'll be ever so good," she said as she picked up the basket and exited into the early evening twilight.

"It is difficult to believe that she will turn eighteen tomorrow night," the researcher said in a tender voice.  "I shall greatly miss her after she returns to her parents."

"I hear you on that one," the green man said as he joined him on the couch.  "Well, at the very least I bought us some time to get together a birthday bash for our little girl."

"What did you have in mind?" asked the vampire quietly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his heart when he thought of Black Rose leaving.

"Oh, just a simple little something:  a few songs, some of those little blood-filled bonbons she likes so much, presents, that sort of thing," he responded in an off-handed way that suggested he was planning a gala reception the likes of which had never been seen outside of Vegas.

"Presents!  Merciful heavens, I had completely forgotten about presents!  What on earth shall I do?"  

"You're sure that you can't hook her up with a brain?" asked the effervescent demon.

"No, unfortunately.  Ah, wait, I have just the thing!" his English voice said in something akin to glee.  He chanted quietly for a moment and with a puff of smoke there appeared a lovely white satin ball gown that was dripping in filmy lace.   "What do you think?"

"She'll adore it!" the demon enthused.  "Heck, I would if I were a girl.  Want to see my gift?"

Without waiting for a response, he dashed up to his room and quickly returned with a small box wrapped in brilliant orange and blue paper and tied with a pink satin bow.  

"It's a necklace with a little golden rose charm," he said in a rush.  

"You both have exquisite taste," the vampire said quietly.  

"So, tall, dark and gloomy, what are you giving our little moppet?" the demon gushed.

"Um, this," he said, pulling out a package from under his chair.  It was wrapped in plain brown paper.

"And that would be a…" the human asked expectantly.

"Doll," the vampire answered softly.  

The human and the demon looked at each other and said, at exactly the same time, "ooookaaaaay."


	3. Chapter Three

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.  And, in this case, some mush.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  Okay, chapter three is here.  And by the way, the poem is supposed to awful… one might even say bloody awful. Chapter Three 

Meanwhile, Black Rose was skipping down the forest path and singing a lilting song in strange, slightly freaky tones.

"…the hottest spot north of Havana.  At the Copa, Copa Cabana," she trilled weirdly.  She had obviously been around the demon far too much.

What the girl didn't know was that there was a young man sitting in the branches of a tree and watching her every move.  At least we think she didn't know.  With Black Rose, it's hard to tell.  He had been silently observing the pretty maiden for several weeks from his perch, trying to work up the nerve to speak to her.  Tonight, he finally managed to produce coherent syllables.

"Um, excuse me," he said as he dropped rather awkwardly to the ground.  "I don't wish to frighten you, but you seem to be all alone in the woods.  There are horrid, nasty things that walk about here at night, and I was wondering if perhaps you would like me to escort you?"  

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said vaguely.   "But you talk so much like the bookman, it seems as though I know you."

The man smiled happily at her.  "May I accompany you?"

"Okay," she said slowly, her blue eyes flashing in the starlight.  

She might be a bit crazy, but she wasn't crazy enough not to notice he was the hottest thing this side of nuclear fission.

"Oh, please, you're embarrassing me!"

Just tellin' it like it is.  As they walked along the path to the berry patch, he introduced himself.

"My name is William.  What's yours?"

"Black Rose.  Or John Jacob Jingleheimerschmitz.  I forget which."

Somehow he didn't find her response odd at all, which goes to show what a smitten kitten he was.

"So, do you live near here?"

"Not far.  With daddy and my uncles.  They shall be displeased if they find I've spoken to somebody," she said thoughtfully.  "Or perhaps they'll do the Macarena while broiling swordfish.  Either way, I don't care.  I like you."

William was almost drunk with joy at her little declaration, and he decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Rose, I've written you a poem.  Would you care to hear it?"

"Just a moment," she said as she smacked him hard on the shoulder with her basket.  "Didn't want the nasty dolphin to nip you.  Now you can read it."

Even William found this particular incident unusual, but he decided to ignore it.  With shaking hands he unfolded a piece of parchment that he had kept over his heart and began to read the poem aloud in a nervous voice.

An Ode to the Pretty Stranger 

_Since yesterday it seems all I'm seein'_

_Are her pretty irises cerulean._

_For all my life I have been savin'_

_Up dreams of her long tresses raven,_

_ And she uses my poor heart for a bin_

_To store thoughts of her skin like porcelain._

_How shall I ever find time to make the rent_

_When I am haunted by her refinement?_

_My life, my thoughts, even my brain is a mess_

_Since I am confounded by her exquisiteness._

_ Soon I must take up residence in a tent_

_In order to think of her beauty radiant._

_Compared to her hand, others' are like a claw is_

_Since she is so completely flawless._

"I know it's not much good, but if you could possibly think of…" he abruptly broke off as Black Rose threw herself against him and proceeded to kiss him so soundly his sinuses were drained.   She drew away just as suddenly.

"That was nice," she said as she continued to walk down the forest path as though absolutely nothing had just happened.

"You can say that again," he murmured as he rushed to catch up with her.

Black Rose looked at the young man out of the corner of her eye and frowned.  She knew she shouldn't, but…

"I should very much like to give you a gift," she said in a pretty singsong.  

"Gift?"

"Yes.  My family shall be quite upset if they ever find out about it, though.  They say it is very naughty."  She grinned at him like a tigress.

William gulped audibly.  

"Would you like me to give it to you?" she asked sweetly.  "I can see you in my mind.  You have a purpose.  And you also have such pretty avocados growing in your hair."

            She drew very close to him, and, unable to speak, William nodded.  

            "Close your eyes," she instructed.

            He more than willingly complied.  Unfortunately, the next thing he felt was her fangs latching onto his neck and draining him down to the very last drop.  Then she quickly slashed her wrist and forced him to drink up.  When he'd had his fill, she simply let him drop to the ground with a dull plop.

            "That was not where I thought this scene was going."

            William, two things.  First, you are currently dead, so you shouldn't be complaining.  Second, this story is rated PG.  What did you think was going to happen?  Oh, don't sigh like that.  You don't even need to breathe anymore.

            Anyway, Black Rose looked down at William and said, "see you tomorrow night, my sweet."  Then she skipped merrily down the road, holding a fascinating conversation with her strawberries about the proper way to shine shoes.


	4. Chapter Four

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  By this point, you've probably figured out this is S/D.  Not that I'm planning on leaving anybody lonely…  

Chapter Four 

When she arrived back home, she found all the lights had been turned out.  This frightened her.

"Daddy!  Where are you!  Someone has painted my eyeballs black!" she shrieked in hysterics as she swung out blindly in the darkness.

"Everything's fine, sugar dumplin'," the green demon soothed her as he flipped on the lamp.  "We just wanted to give you a little surprise party."

"Daddy!"  

She absolutely refused to calm down until the dark-haired vampire was holding her in his arms and stroking her hair.

"It's alright, Rose," he said gently.  "Come on, why don't you take a look at what everybody got you."

"I've got presents?" she asked, her eyes immediately lighting up with girlish glee.  

"Just a little something from each of us," the ex-librarian said with a smile.

"You didn't get me a book, did you?  All the letters dance around in my brain and make pictures of camels eating oatmeal."

Everyone took a moment to let that image form in his brain.

"Uh, no, dearheart," the Englishman said slowly.  He handed her the lovely gown, and her eyes widened in rapture.

"Oh, bookman," she breathed, "this is lovely!  Did you make it from a cloud?"

"Well, actually, it did appear in a puff of smoke, so almost," he said, considering this.

"Me next, precious," said the green man, handing her the brightly wrapped box.  "Open it!"

It took Rose a moment or two to get over her fear of the loud paper (she was convinced it was playing an electric guitar and a gong in her brain), but when she finally unwrapped it, she smiled happily at her present.

"A pretty little rose for Rose!  And this one won't die, will it?"  she asked as he fastened it around her neck.

"No.  But the petals fall off my rose one by one until finally I have to stay a beast forever," groaned a strange, yak-like creature wearing a royal blue suit who had roamed into their living room.  Everyone stared.

You're in the wrong story, you idiot!  Get out of here!

"Huh?"

Leave!  Vamoose!  Adios!  Go look for Beauty somewhere else!

"Sorry,"  he grunted as he left once more.  They all decided to act as though the weird occurance had never taken place.

"Do you have a present for me, Daddy?" asked Rose expectantly.

"Um, yes," he said nervously as he handed her the brown paper package.

"Tied up with string!  These are a few of my favorite things."

Please, no showtunes without notice, greenie.

"Honey, that was a song cue if I ever heard one."

Well, I can see how it would be tempting.  I'll let it go this time.

Black Rose undid the paper and pulled out a lovely little doll dressed in white.  She gazed at it with wide eyes.  Then she threw her arms around the vampire and sobbed.

"What did I do!" he hissed at the other two men who shook their heads, chalking it up to the mystery that is the female of the species.

"Th-th-thank you," Rose sobbed.  "She's lovely.  And I see your thoughts behind her, too.  I'll always be your little girl."

The vampire smiled whistfully and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

"I shall call her Windowshade."

Okay, I'll bite this time, no pun intended.  That name is just odd.

"To a vampire, a windowshade is a very, very lovely, important thing."

Point taken.  Pray continue.

The three men looked at each other and realized it was time to tell Black Rose about her other family, especially since she would be going back to them in less than twenty-four hours.

"Um, Rose, we have something we need to talk to you about," the vampire began slowly.

"I know.  The red-headed witch and the weird Twinkie-boy are my other Mummy and Daddy, yes?"

"That's amazing," the Englishman said as he toppled into a wingchair.  "How on earth did you…"

"Stars told me," she answered.  "Not that big a matter.  It's not like I'm going to live with them tomorrow or anything."

"Well, actually princess, and I use that term literally, you kind of… are," the demon said.

She looked at him as though he were crazy.  "What?"

"I'm sorry.  We should have told you sooner," the vampire began with a guilty look.  

"But," she said as her blue eyes began to fill with tears, "what about my William?"

"Your what?" asked the Englishman with a note of panic.

"Whoops," she said after she remembered that they would not be happy about her little secrect.  She gave the vampire a sheepish grin.  "Sorry."

"Rose, you didn't…" the demon began as he practically collapsed into a chair.  

"He won't even wake up until tomorrow night."

"Oh!  You sired him!  Well, if that's all…" the demon exclaimed in relief.  The others just looked at him.  "What?"

"Black Rose has just taken a mortal's life and turned him into one of the undead, and your reaction is 'well, if that's all'?" the Englishman said in a disbelieving voice.

"Hey, it could be worse.  She could be in love with him or something, and since she's betrothed to that lawyer guy…" the demon looked squarely at the now-blushing Rose and a suspicion started to form. "Wait a minute.  Rose, do a few bars of 'You Don't Bring Me Flowers'."  

When she complied, the demon's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, horse puckey.  She's in love with the chump!"  

The three males exchanged looks.

"Rose, how can you possibly be in love with someone you only met a few minutes ago?" asked the vampire gently.

"Oh, I know him very well.  I can see inside his head.  He has lovely, gooshy, sweet insides," she said dreamily.  "And he'll be a wonderful warrior when the cheerleader attacks."

"Rose," said the Englishman, "I know this may seem bizarre to you," he paused momentarily, realizing that Rose lived in a perpetual state of bizarre, "but from the time shortly after you were born you have been engaged to be married to Lindsey, the prince of the country of Wolfram & Hart.  Wait a moment.  Narrator?"

Right here, G-Man.

"I have a question."

Fire away.

"I realize this is a fairy tale, but do you really think that the king and queen would have the personalities to put their daughter into an arranged marriage?  Especially with someone from Wolfram & Hart?"

You've got a point.  Give me a second and I'll come up with a mildly acceptable excuse.

"Take your time."

Ummm, they were put under an evil spell by King Holland that made them think that marrying off Rose to Lindsey was a gosh-golly-gee-swell idea?

"Hmm.  Perhaps.  But why would Wolfram & Hart want Rose?"

Well, uh, she is a seer.  Maybe they want to use her for one of their none-too-legal business ventures?

"Alright, I will accept that – on one condition."

Name it, oh hot little English number.  Aw, I made ya blush!

"The condition is that under no circumstances at the end of this story is our Rose to actually marry that evil so-and-so."

Granted.  I'll figure out some bizarre plot twist that will forestall the impending nuptials.  Just act like it's a complete surprise when it happens, 'kay?

"Fine.  As I was saying, Rose…"

"Who were you talking to?" she asked, wide-eyed.  "There's nobody else here.  Are you feeling well, bookman?"

Slightly alarmed that Rose, of all people, thought he might be insane, the Englishman continued on.  "Just thinking aloud.  Rose, you must never see this William again and, tomorrow night, you will return to the castle to live with your other set of adoptive parents.  I'm dreadfully sorry that this is the case, but, well…"

"You're acting just like you did when you gave the Slayer that nasty medicine that made her all wobbly," Rose said in tears.

"Oh, come now, nobody ever brings that up anymore," he said in annoyance.

"Rose, please, just come with us tomorrow night to the castle.  Wouldn't you like to see the king and queen?" the dark-haired man said soothingly.

"You'll still be my daddy, won't you?" she said, her lip trembling.

"Just like you said, you'll always be my little girl," he intoned reassuringly, pulling her into a hug.

"Oh, this is so sweet!" the green demon said as he dabbed at his eyes.  "I haven't been this moved since I saw Striesand in concert!"

Rose reluctantly agreed to go with them.  Early the next morning, they started to make their way through the extensive Sunnydale sewer system to the castle.

"'Scuse me, sugar.  It's me this time."

What's up, greenie?

"The wicked debutante said that she was going to get our little girl before the sun sets on her eighteenth birthday, yes?"

Correctomundo.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for us to lie low until after the sunset?"

Yup.

"So why are we leaving now?"

If you don't, it kind of wrecks the whole plot.

"But there's gotta be some kind of reason!"

Okay, this always bugged me in the original, too.  Give me a minute…  Got it!  You decided to leave early so Rose wouldn't have the chance to run into William when he wakes up later on tonight.  You're hoping for that whole out of sight, out of mind thing.

"Not bad."

Thanks.  Sadly, Black Rose and her three adoptive relatives made their way through the underground tunnels.  Rose walked with her dark head leaning against the vampire's chest, his arm around her comfortingly.  The demon kept singing snatches of sad songs from Broadway musicals, not only because he was depressed about losing Rose, but also because the acoustics in the tunnels were fantastic.  The only mortal in the group trudged along wearily, holding a torch aloft and looking decidedly glum.

After many hours, they arrived at their destination.  The vampire opened a door and they exited into the basement of the castle.  Oddly, instead of the usual torture chamber and prison cells, the lower level contained a washer and dryer, a clunky sofa, and a collection of Babylon 5 commemorative plates.  Apparently, the king was responsible for the décor.

The entire group had now reached the same broodiness level that the vampire usually displayed.  They climbed a set of circular stairs until they reached the topmost level of the castle, which was housed in a tall tower.  

"Rose, the sun is just about to set.  Would you like a few moments alone to change your dress before you meet your parents and your fiance?" asked the Englishman gently.

Rose nodded gloomily, and the other three left the room, just as they are supposed to do in order for the story to proceed, so none of you mention how completely brain dead you would have to be to leave her at the most dangerous possible moment.


	5. Chapter Five

Rating:  PG for incredibly tiny fairy-tale violence

Feedback:  Yes, thank you.

Spoilers:  Yeesh, nothing.

Distribution:   For now, here.  If you should happen to be interested, let me know.

Summary:  The continuing adventures of Black Rose and her Prince, William  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Author's Note:  Argh.  For some weird reason, chapter one was replaced with chapter three.  I think it's fixed now.  Sorry to anyone I confused.

Chapter Five 

Black Rose sat down in front of a mirror in the room, which was an odd thing to do since she had no reflection, and began to weep.  She missed her William dreadfully, and all she could think of was that he'd be waking up very soon and she wouldn't be there for it.  After a few minutes, Rose wiped her eyes on her sleeve and changed into the lovely dress that the ex-Watcher had given her, clasped the demon's golden necklace around her throat, and picked up the doll from her daddy.  She was just about to rejoin the Three Good Beings when a sudden change came over her.

Rose stood in the middle of the room and stared vacantly at the far wall.  Granted, this wouldn't really have been that abnormal for her, all things considered, but there was something decidedly more eerie than usual in her swaying posture.  Suddenly, an image flickered on the wall before her.  It was a dark-haired woman dressed in the height of fashion.

"Who are you?" Rose asked.

"Not important.  Just walk through the wall,"  the woman replied in a very surly voice.

"I've tried walking through walls before," Rose murmured thoughtfully.  "I always end up bumping my nose."

"Oh, for crying out loud, just get in here!" the girl half-screamed as her arm shot through the supposedly solid stone wall, grabbed Rose by the wrist, and pulled her through.  With a dull thud, Windowshade landed on the floor in the now vacant chamber.

The wicked debutante, since of course that's who she was, was losing patience, not that she'd ever had much in that department.  For the past eighteen years she had looked high and low for the princess, and it had taken her until tonight to find her.  Of course most of her expeditions had gotten side-tracked at the local mall, but that was beside the point.  Now, with only a few minutes left before sundown, she had to find a way to get her to prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel.  Under normal situations, this would have proved difficult, but since this is a fairy tale of sorts and, as has been mentioned elsewhere, spinning wheels automatically come free with the purchase of any piece of real estate in the land of "once upon a time," there happened to be a spinning wheel sitting right in that very room.

"Do you know what this thing is?"  asked the fashion maven.

"Am I supposed to spin it and try to land on the dollar?" Rose replied, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

The other woman sighed.  "Look, will you just touch the big, sharp, pointy thing and get this overwith already?"

"Okay," Rose replied good-naturedly, then stuck her finger on the spindle and promptly fell over in a deep sleep.

"Gee, that wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it was gonna be," the wicked May Queen said happily.  "Whoo-hoo!  I'm off on a celebratory shopping spree!"  With that, she abruptly disappeared in a color coordinated puff of smoke.

Meanwhile, the Three Good Beings were standing in the hallway, waiting for Rose to finish dressing.  None of them looked too happy.  Time passed.  Eventually, they realized something must be wrong.

"Perhaps one of us should go in and check on her?" ventured the ex-Watcher.

"Oh, you know women.  They take forever getting ready for a big to-do," the demon answered.

"But it has been over two hours.  I am starting to believe something is quite wrong."

The vampire tapped gently on the door.  There was no answer.  With one swift kick he knocked the massive oak door off its hinges and plowed full force into the room.  Its only occupant was Windowshade.


	6. Chapter Six

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  Six down, four more to go.

Chapter Six

"What the…" the tall no-longer-human mumbled as he picked up the doll.  "Rose!  Where are you!"

The librarian entered the room cautiously.  "Something isn't right."

"No kidding.  And here I was thinking that everything was just ginger peachy with cinnamon red hots on top," the green demon replied snarkily.

"No, I mean the architecture of this room is nonsensical.  There should be another twenty to thirty feet behind this back wall," he said matter of factly.

The other two men stared at him.

"How the heck can you tell that?" asked the brown-eyed one in shock.

"It's simply a matter of compensating for the turn of the wall and… oh, never mind.  Just trust me on this one."

With a nod, the vampire ran at the opposite wall with all the force of a linebacker, yelling a blood-curdling war whoop.  He then proceeded to run directly through the nonexistent wall and, unable to stop, skidded across the concealed room and burst through the outside wall, leaving a vamp-shaped hole punched through the brick, exactly like in the cartoons.  Since this happened to be the tallest tower in the castle, he then fell a good three hundred feet into the moat below, landing with a loud splash and a bevy of curses that had never been heard before outside of eighteenth-century Ireland.

By the time the vampire had re-climbed the stairs up to the tower, the green demon and the librarian had already found Black Rose lying on the floor in the hidden chamber, right next to the spinning wheel.

"She's not dead, is she?" he asked with fear in his voice as he dripped moat-water all over the floor.

"You loon!  She's a vampire!  Of course she's dead!" said the now far-too stressed human.

"She's not about to turn into dust if that's what you mean," said the green demon as he gently patted the other fellow on the back.  "Though it looks like you-know-who got to her."

"Voldemort?"  asked the vamp dimly.

The Englishman sighed profoundly, but decided against staking him and chalked the inane answer up to the extreme situation.

"So, what do we do now?" asked the swingin' singer.

"Make her comfortable," answered the taller being in a suddenly somber tone.  "Could you magic her up a bed or something?"

"Certainly, of course," replied the ex-Watcher.  "Let me see, what was that spell again?"

He chanted a few words in an arcane dialect of Greek, or perhaps it was just French spoken with a Brooklyn accent, and a bed suddenly appeared.  Unfortunately, instead of the dramatic canopied confection he'd imagined, the puff of sparkly smoke produced a hot pink racecar kiddie bed.

"Well, it's not exactly what I had in mind, but I bet she'll think it's neat," said the green demon as he looked at what the man had come up with.

Gently, the vampire picked up his adopted daughter and put her down on the bed, the tender moment only briefly spoiled as his elbow connected with the little steering wheel's horn.  He tucked Windowshade into bed beside her.  The three males all stood there, staring at her, hoping they'd be able to see her bright blue eyes open again soon.

"What about the king and queen?" asked the justifiably broody semi-human.  

It was about time somebody thought of the royal couple.  They'd been sitting in the castle's living room for the last three hours, the candles on the birthday cake for their daughter long since having melted into multi-colored splashes of wax.  They'd sunk so low as playing "I Spy" by now, and the king was so nervous, he'd eaten his own weight in Doritos.  He'd turned a highly interesting shade of vibrant chartreuse.

"I could perhaps make them sleep until the time Rose wakes up," the librarian suggested.  After a moment or two of incantations, the whole palace fell into a deep sleep, except, of course, for the three good beings.

I said, except for the three good beings.

WAKE UP, YOU NITWITS!

Please?

Hello?

Um, wakey-wakey?

Oh, great, they're out cold.  Nice work, G-Man.  Way to leave it all up to the narrator.  I believe a brief pause for a chapter break is in order.


	7. Chapter Seven

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Chapter Seven

Okay, um, as you kind readers are aware, the librarian's spell has made him, the vampire, and the green guy all go nappy-bye.  And he used to complain about the queen's spells.  Yeesh.  Well, let's see if I can get them to come round.

Oh hot little English number!  Look, I'm holding your author-autographed, first edition copy of Shakespeare out the gaping hole that the vampire made in the castle wall!  If it slips, it'll fall straight into the moat and… oh, geez.  Sorry about that.  Guess I'll have to buy him a new one…

Greenie!  Old buddy, old pal!  Come on, how about a little sing along?  What you want, baby I got it!  What you need, you know I got it!  All I'm askin', is for a… little… respect?  Man, even Aretha's not reaching him.  This is getting serious.

Okay, my favorite ensouled vampire, I'm getting desperate, so it looks like I'm gonna have to play dirty.  Forgive me.  The Slayer is standing in the next room, wearing that pink dress from prom, and the Powers that Be have granted you a permanent reprieve on that too-happy clause.  Dang.  Nothing.  This is extremely of the not good, as the king would say, and I'm not talking about Elvis.  

Looks like I'll just have to leave them a-lying here in a big old heap.  I'll just throw a blanket over the hole in the wall so the vamps don't become extra crispy.  There.  All better.  Sleep tight.  

And yes, before you even ask, I have completely taken advantage of the situation and given both broody boy and the book maven very, very thorough good night kisses.  Oh, what the heck, I even bussed the karioke addict.

Almost immediately, our scene shifts to the forest path where Rose left William to wait for nightfall.  Since I'm the narrator, I don't have to go by way of the sewers.  Anyway, I'm sure he'll be waking up any minute now.

"I'm behind you, pet."

Uh, William?  You don't have a very happy look on your face.  What's up?

"You're late."

Well excuuuuuuuuuse me!  There was an inseeny-beensy little narrative glitch and… 

"You think you've got problems?  Let me catch you up on the first few minutes of the unlife of yours truly.  I wake up, none too delighted at the whole prospect of being dead, mind you, and with my princess nowhere in sight, when out of the blue a whole platoon of commandos drops out of the trees."

Oh boy.

"Next thing I know I've got a microchip implanted in my noggin that keeps me from hurting humans.  I never got the chance to drain even one!  And to make matters really bizarre, for some reason I'm blond all of a sudden!  Now do you understand why I woke up on the cranky side of the crypt?"

Um, on the up side, blond looks good on you.

"Nice of you to tell me, because how the bloody hell should I know!  I don't even have a ruddy reflection anymore!"

Okay, you have some seriously legitimate reasons for complaining.  How about I cut you a deal to ease my guilty conscience?

"What sort of deal?"

Excuse us for a moment as I whisper something into the gentleman's ear that will be revealed later.

Long pause…

"You're joking!"

Nope.  Honest offer.  Even though I'll probably live to regret it.

"Well, all right then.  I shan't mention another word on the topic."

Fine.  Now that that's all straightened out, I should tell you that Rose has fallen into an enchanted sleep due to a spell cast on her by a wicked, shopping addicted fashion aficionado, and only her true love's kiss will wake her up again.

"I'm dead for all of twenty-four hours and the whole world goes to blue blazes in a hand basket.  Unbelievable.  Next thing you'll be telling me is disco is back in fashion."

I'm just going to let that slide right on past.

"Wait a minute.  This evil mall queen who zapped my girl-- is she human?"

Yup.

"So the chip isn't going to let me give her so much as a paper cut without making my head explode like a July Fourth firework?"

Don't worry, sugarfangs.  I've got a plan.

"Why does that not make me feel better?  And by the way, _sugarfangs_?"

What, you're the only one allowed to use terms of endearment?  Anyway, here are the magical weapons you can use to defeat the evil enchantress.  Here, put this on.

"A black leather duster?  What's it do?"

Aside from making you look hotter than sin, it makes the wearer immune to any spells cast by the diabolical deb.

"You're sure it doesn't make me look fat?"

Trust me, the second Rose wakes up, she'll be all over you.

"I'm starting to like this."

Good.  And now for your trusty, noble steed.

"That's a car."

I don't see you as the horseback type.  In this, your trademark black Desoto Fireflite, you'll be able to travel without fear of sunlight and smash down the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign multiple times.

"How am I supposed to see through a blacked-out windshield?"

There's an itty bitty space right at eye level for ya.

"You sure you don't have anything a bit more flashy?  Maybe something in blood red, like say a Ferrari or a Lamborghini or a…"

It's this or a Winnebago with ugly drapes, a funky smell,  and tinfoil crinkled over the windows.

"Desoto.  Gotcha.  Love it dearly."

Last, but certainly not least, is the most powerful weapon that I can give you against the wicked witch.

"A Swiss Army knife?  What does this do?"

Besides opening and uncorking bottles, whittling wood and helping you earn any number of merit badges in the Vampire Scouts (don't even ask what they sell to raise money for camping trips), this nifty little gizmo might just help you defeat your fiendish foe.  Now, before you go off to the castle, stop over at the three good beings' place and raid the fridge for some hemoglobin delight.  We can't have you rescuing your lady love on an empty tummy.

"What about the little problem of an invite?"

One of the beings is a vamp, so you're all clear.  Now scamper on your merry way and go do the typical fairy tale breaking and entering.

"I may be new to this, but I'm dead cert vampires don't scamper."

Then lurk on your merry way.  Maybe I should consider making that ghost the debutante lives with the hero of the next story; at least I wouldn't get so much back talk.

"You know you love it."            


	8. Chapter Eight

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Chapter Eight

While all of these events were going on, the kingdom of Sunnydale should have been experiencing a major economic boom due solely to the shopping habits of a certain brunette debutante.  Kindly notice the words "should have." The morally bankrupt sorceress couldn't be bothered to actually pay for anything she was grabbing off the racks at the local mall.  In spite of this flagrant shoplifting, not one security guard, sales associate, or even tantrum-throwing, thumb-sucking toddler dared open his or her mouth in protest.  Word had already gotten around about Rose, and none of them wanted to wind up being stuck with a spindle, even though most of them couldn't have told you what one was.  Besides, the girl was still wielding the Gold Card of Ultimate Power, so she was pretty much untouchable anyway.

"Darn skippy."

Many hours later, laden with enough shopping bags to fully clothe a small African country, the evil enchantress skipped merrily out to the parking lot and piled her pilferings into her silver BMW convertible.  However, she was suddenly faced with a problem that has mystified the ages, a problem so great that not even the most profound minds of our time have yet been able to successfully plumb the depths of its mysteries.

"How the heck am I going to find enough closet space for all this?" she griped in annoyance.  

Suddenly, a perfect solution struck her.  Pushing the pedal to the metal, the young woman,… oh, and don't ask me why no one ages in this story even though eighteen years have passed.  Chalk it up to really good genes…. was soon outside the king and queen's castle.  Her original plan had been to demand the use of their second floor for off-season storage or she'd cause a worldwide junk food shortage as well as slow the modems of all computers far and near, but the deep quiet surrounding the pretty-darn-huge-considering-it-was-built-on-a-carpenter's-salary palace told her something was up.  

She burst in the front door without knocking, only to find the king and queen deeply embraced in the arms of Morpheus.  The main hall was still decorated for Rose's birthday party.  The queen's crown had slipped over one ear and she was snoring like a house on fire, her head fallen onto the back of the sofa.  The king, on the other hand, had fallen head first into the cake before sprawling onto the floor, his face plastered in chocolate fudge frosting and one spent candle wedged solidly in his right nostril.

"And I actually used to date him," she murmured in disbelief, shaking her head at the very non-posh scene before her.  "It's amazing that I don't have a phobia about closets!  Well, actually, broom closets do still kind of give me the willies."  

With a quick chant, her entire wardrobe was transplanted from her home to the castle and arranged accordingly by season, color, and mood in each of the different rooms.   It was a darn big castle, but even so, the clothes racks crowded so close together that moving from room to room was exceedingly difficult, not unlike trying to get through a forest of brambles.  See, it is related to the plot.

With a satisfied nod, the wicked debutante decided to call it a day.  After all, she'd put her eighteen-year vengeance obsession victim into a coma, bought enough shoes to keep a millipede shod for a century, and taken possession of the king and queen's castle.  She figured she'd earned a little down time.  Calling her masseuse on her color coordinated cell phone, she ordered him to drive out to the palace and give her a two-hour massage next to the in-ground pool.

As the sun sank quietly into the west, the self-proclaimed princess blissfully thought that not a single thing could possibly ruin her day, which just goes to show that Murphy's Law is always right.


	9. Chapter Nine

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Chapter Nine

Twilight had just tinged the sky with gray and the last rays of the sun had barely disappeared below the horizon when the wicked debutante heard the sound of a motor approaching from afar.  

"Must be the masseuse.  He got here awfully fast, though," the debutante pondered aloud.

However, the car didn't simply pull into the drive.  Instead, it shot directly at the castle's thick oak door, hurtling over the moat like a scene from _The Dukes of Hazard_ and battering the portal down with a tremendous sound of splintering wood.  Needless to say, the sorceress was not pleased.

"This guy is so not getting a tip after that!" she angrily proclaimed.  

Powerfully ticked off, she strode into the castle and, since she wasn't blind as a bat, immediately noticed the black Desoto parked in the living room.

"Hey!  You ran over a whole rack of my Prada capris, you moron!  How am I supposed to get skid marks off of silk?" she raged as the blond driver exited the vehicle with a smug grin.

"Which way to my princess, you overdressed sow?"

Obviously, this was neither the most polite nor the most intelligent thing our dear William could have said.  If the enchantress's anger level had been at a ten before, it had just shot to two hundred and twenty-six point three.  Sparks flashed from her eyes, which was a truly stupid thing to do since said sparks then fell on her brand-new espadrilles, leaving highly noticeably scorch marks.

"You want to find the little lunatic?  Go ahead and try it, you bleached freak.  You'll never make it up there alive!"

"I'm already dead, nitwit.  Ease up on the mousse already; it's starting to clog your brain cells."

With a shriek of rage, the girl proceeded to bludgeon our high-cheekboned hero with a series of nasty enchantments.

"May your roots show forevermore!  May your eyes turn an icky shade of puce!  May the Auto Club refuse to accept you as a member because you don't have a pulse!"  As she made each of these ghastly pronouncements, a ball of light flew from her Gold Card straight at the vampire, only to fizzle out like cheap sparklers the moment they touched his duster.

"Huh?  What gives?" she whined.  "One more try.  On your twenty-third deathday, may you get a paper cut on your pinky and die!"

Once again, the glimmering sphere that shot from her credit card went kerplooey.  And, might I add, that had to be the lamest curse I've ever heard in my life.  

"Yeah, well, pricking your finger on a spindle ain't exactly high on the fatality menu either."

Point taken.  It finally sunk through the well accessorized one's head that the vamp's coat was deflecting all of her direct attacks.  The debutante, however, was nowhere near as stupid as she sometimes acted.

"Hey!"

Can it, cheerleader.  You're about to do something fairly impressive.  In the blink of an eye, she had disappeared, leaving a very large ball of flame behind her.  It's a little known fact that designer duds are nototoriously flammable, and the eighteen floors of wardrobe were suddenly set ablaze.  The debutante didn't particularly care about this since she'd come to the conclusion most of her clothes were from last season's collections anyway, and she didn't want to look outdated.

Since she hadn't aimed the magic directly at the vampire, his coat was powerless to block the fire.  Besieged on all sides by crimson and saffron tongues of flame that were almost as hot as he was, the blond demon bravely stared into the face of death for the second time in twenty-four hours.

"Wait half a second here, pet!  You've left me, a highly combustible vampire, stuck under eighteen floors of bright, shiny fire?  How the bloody hell am I supposed to get to my ladylove?  What are you planning to do, kill me off so you don't have to live up to our little agreement?"

Trust me, oh sapphire-eyed one; I'll get you there.  Just at that moment, when all seemed hopelessly lost, what should appear but a fire extinguisher, floating in mid-air. The vampire grabbed it and proceeded to blast a path for himself through the inferno.

"But how…?"

Annoyed beyond belief at her incessant narcissism, the ghost who roomed with the evil witch had decided to take matters into his own hands… well, more or less, considering he didn't actually have hands anymore.  Led onward by the friendly poltergeist opening the correct doors for him so he would know which way to go, William was able to reach the top of the tallest tower with only the slightest of singes on his Doc Martin's.

Unfortunately, there, blocking the doorway to the chamber where the Three Good Beings and Rose were catching forty winks, was the sorceress.  In case the fire didn't finish him off, she'd transported herself to his final destination to stop the whole happily-ever-after segment of the story.  See, the queen was right:  major bitca.

With the predatory grace of a leopard, William advanced upon the villainess, growling threateningly, his game face firmly in place.  For one brief second, she thought about backing down and letting him pass, but then she remembered the rumor she'd heard earlier that day at the mall.

"Ha!  That chip in your brain won't let you do anything to me, and the only way you're getting through this door is over my dead body!  Say goodbye, short stuff," she crowed in glee as she prepared to shoot a jet of holy water at him, propelling him back down the eighteen flights of steps and into the fiery swirl that still blazed below.

"Short stuff?" he uttered in disbelief.  "I'm taller than you are, you foul hag!"

With that, he withdrew the Swiss Army knife from his pocket, took careful aim, and hurled the small, sharp blade end over end at the his chosen target.

"Shouldn't he be grabbing his skull and screaming like a woman?"

Nope.  He's not aiming at you.  His nifty little pocketknife found its mark perfectly…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

… slicing the witch's Gold Card cleanly in two.  The source of her power was utterly destroyed.

Immediately, a truck pulled up in front of the castle.  Within ten seconds her entire ill-gotten (and now heavily fried) wardrobe was repossessed, and the witch herself was arrested for indecently egotistical behavior and carted off to work at the local McDonald's until her debts to society were paid.  

"But, but, the grease!  It's murder on my complexion!" she moaned as she was led away by the officers of the law.  "And that tacky uniform isn't even close to being my color!"

"Question."

Go ahead.

"Couldn't you have let me use a machete or a scimitar or something a bit more manly than a Swiss Army knife?"

Hey, the Swiss are manly!  They make the best chocolate in the world!  I will not hear a word against the Swiss!  Besides, I think all those little gizmos are pretty cool.

"Right.  Whatever.  Now then, considering there was nothing behind the bimbo but a brick wall, how do I get to Rose?"

Walk right through the wall like it's not even there.  Please note that I stress walk as opposed to run.  I don't want to be fishing any more vampires out of the moat.

With a curt nod of thanks to the narrator, William strode through the seemingly solid stone wall to awaken his love with a kiss.

And then abruptly walked right back through it again with a baffled look on his face.  What gives?  

"We've got a bit of a problem, ducks."


	10. Chapter Ten

Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Author's Note:  And they all died, the end.  Kidding, kidding!

Chapter Ten

Okay Romeo, why ain't ya kissing your Juliet?

"She's not exactly alone in there."

Oh, you mean the karaoke guy, the Watcher and the other vampire?  There's no need to get all bashful in front of them; they're completely zoned out.

"Not whom I was referring to."

Huh?

"Look for yourself."

Fine.  I'll go inside with you.  See, nothing's wrong.  The Three Good Beings are slumbering away, Rose is still tucked in, and… who threw that enormous hat rack on her racecar bed?

"That's no hat rack."

With that, the object in question moved.  As the narrator and the vampire watched in silent disbelief, the supposed hat rack was revealed to be a pair of slime-dripping antlers, which were attached to a rather mild-mannered looking chaos demon who appeared to have just finished thoroughly bussing Black Rose.  Worse yet, she was beginning to stir.

Shooting a highly apologetic look at the vampire, the narrator quickly grabbed the chaos demon by its icky antlers, threw the blanket off the brooding-vampire-shaped hole in the outer wall, and flung him into the moat hundreds of feet below, where he landed with a resounding splash.

"Sorry!  Didn't know she was spoken for!" he called back up to the remaining beings in the tower.

William suddenly found himself being propelled towards the pink kiddie bed, and not a moment too soon.

Black Rose's blue eyes fluttered open, and she yawned delicately.  Looking around in slight confusion, she suddenly noticed the vampire hovering above her.

"William!  What have you done to yourself?" she asked in surprise as she took in his blond hair and black leather.

"I, uh, well, that is…" he stammered incoherently.  

"You look even more delicious than one of Daddy's blood sundaes with chocolate marshmallow ice cream and rainbow sprinkles!" she enthused as she grabbed him by his lapels and proceeded to kiss him half back to life again.  

Several hours later, when the kiss finally ended (not having to breath has some pleasant side effects), Rose finally noticed the Three Good Beings littered about the room.

"Why are they still asleep?" Rose cooed in concern

"Not a problem for me.  Let 'em keep sleeping for the next thirty years for all I care.  No in-laws mucking things up," the blond said as he clasped his sire round the waist and nuzzled her neck affectionately.

"No!  They have to wake up now!" the seer demanded almost hysterically, which for her was actually pretty normal.

Don't worry about it.  I pressed their snooze buttons for a bit to give you two kids a chance to make googly-eyes at each other in peace.  They should be waking up any moment.

"Rose?" asked the dark vampire groggily as he rubbed his fists in his eyes, making himself look positively adorable.  "Are you alright?"

"Daddy!" she squealed as she threw herself across the room and flung her arms around his neck.  

"I do believe I've regained consciousness as well," said the librarian as he slowly stretched.

"Excuse me, oh English one, but would you mind not sticking your thumb in my eyeball?" the karaoke demon, who was always on the grumpy side first thing in the morning, complained loudly as he woke up.

"I'm so very glad you've all woken up.  I could see your dreams, and they were making a great disturbance in the force," Rose chided as she nodded her head.

"Um, you say you saw our dreams, sugar apple?" asked the green one, and I ain't speakin' of Kermit.

"Yes.  But yours were very strange.  Everybody was singing and dancing and doing high kicks and drinking sea breezes and discussing eighteenth century politics.  I never knew you were in favor of the laissez-faire policies of the pre-Revolutionary society in France," the vampiress pouted.  "Naughty."

Everyone stared at the lounge lizard.

"What?  I can't have interests outside of Manilow?"

It looked like a happy ending for our friends, when all of a sudden, who should saunter into the room but evil Prince Lindsey of the country of Wolfram & Hart.

"Thanks for waking her up for me, blond boy, but she's all mine now," he twanged in a heavier than usual Southern accent.

"What are you talking about, you evil fiend?" the specified blond boy queried menacingly, which really was the pot calling the kettle black, in my humble opinion.

"Lawyers versus vampires?  No question.  The legal eagles are more evil.  And I dare you to type that three times fast."

The legal eagles are more evil.  The legeagles are morevil.  The evil eagles are more legal.  Hah!  Did it.  Oh, wait, guess I didn't.  Anyway, as our arch-villain was saying…

"I've got an agreement here signed by the king and queen stating clearly that I am to have Rose's hand in marriage.  Back out of it, and I'll sue you for breach of contract.  Nyah-nyah!" gloated the truly nefarious attorney.

"Now, hold on a moment.  I'll not have our Rose being forced into some sort of-of a-a-rranged marriage!" declared the bookman vehemently.  

Then things got really serious.  You could tell because he took off his glasses and got "that look" in his eyes.

"If you intend to take Rose by force, you'd best realize that you won't live through the day, even if it means I rip you limb from limb with my bare hands," the Watcher declared in tones that made females everywhere melt into boneless heaps.

"Kind of been there, done that already," Southern man nonchalantly replied.  "I had it replaced from stock parts."

"Look here, mate.  You can't marry my girl because I'm planning on doing that meself," he shot a sheepish look at the brunette in question, "uh, if she agrees, that is."

"Of course I'll marry you, you silly Billy!" the vampiress said petulantly.

"Aw, how sweet!  Our little girl's getting' hitched," the tuneful one declared as he honked his nose on an orange paisley handkerchief.

The broodster looked a bit whistful at the thought of losing his daughter to a vampire he'd met only two minutes before, but he patted her on the head and said "If it'll make you happy, Rose, you have my blessing."

"Thanks, Dad!" chimed in the groom-to-be.

"Shut up.  I don't like you all that much."

"That's all very sweet, but I'll sue you to an inch of your lives.  Or unlives, as the case may be."

Everyone was looking very unhappy, except for the gleeful lawyer, when the narrator decided to intervene once more.  Poof!  Who should appear in the room but the previously convicted debutante.

"Hey, you're kind of cute," she purred at him.

"You're not too bad yourself," he said, sizing her and her possible bank account up.  "Allow me to sing you a totally out of character love song whilst playing this guitar that has materialized from nowhere.  Feelings!  Whoa, whoa, whoa, feelings!  Whoa, whoa, whoa, feelings!  Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!"

Wooed by the moronic tones of the worst song that God ever permitted to be created by mortal pen, the debutante fell head over 5-inch heels in love with the evil attorney.  

"Let's skip this dripfest and head to Vegas," she suggested.

"Sounds good to me.  Oh, the contract?  Cancelled," he declared as he exited.

There was suddenly a very high-pitched squeak of surprise from the dark haired vampire as he left.

"Sorry.  Evil hand," he snarked as he disappeared down the charred stairwell.

Later that day, the king and queen finally met their adopted daughter, only to find out they had to fork over the cash for a highly expensive triple wedding that was set for two hours from their first sight of her.

"Triple?"

I always take care of my characters, broody pumpkin.  

"Broody pumpkin?"

"Consider yourself lucky, Pops.  I got sugarfangs."

Having earned his redemption for all his evil deeds through his tireless devotion to his adoptive daughter, not unlike Jean Valjean, the dark-haired vampire was permitted to marry the love of his unlife, the Slayer.

"Hey!  Not bad!  I haven't even been in this thing since the baby shower, and I still get my man!  I just came back to remind the king and queen that the gift certificate for psychotherapy that I got Rose way back when is finally ready for use."

"Nothing doing!  I like her loopy!"

As for the ex-Watcher, he found out that his former girlfriend, who everyone thought had been found dead in his upstairs bedroom, had just been napping for the past three and half years.  She finally woke up, rushed into the arms of our favorite English librarian, and was swept into a mind-numbing kiss.

"Oh, my goodness.  How very, very pleasant!"

So, the three brides in snowy white dresses processed down the aisle to their respective grooms.  Of course, it took awhile to convince Rose that Windowshade, who had been chosen to serve as flower girl, wasn't struck by stage fright but was, in fact, incapable of walking down the carpet unaided.   As the group took their vows, the owner of the karaoke bar serenaded them some of his more sentimental favorites.

"My heart will go on and on!" 

Oddly enough, this particular song made all three grooms break down into uncontrollable sobs.

"Poor Jack!  Poor Rose!"

"Robbed of true love by a ruddy iceberg!"

"I brooded about that movie for three weeks afterward!"

Oh, shut up.  Two of you don't even have hearts that "go on and on" anymore.

"I just thought of something.  Narrator?"

What's up, oh chosen one?

"Can't we get the singer a honey, too?  I mean, I don't really know the guy, but he seems pretty nice.  Any prospects?"

With that, who should stride through the door but Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul herself.

"I have died and gone to heaven!" enthused the green one.

"Come on, sugar!  Hop in my pink Cadillac and let's take a ride on the Freeway of Love!"

The green demon scurried out the door, belting out one last song in parting.

"So long, farewell, au revoir, auf wiedersane!"

As the moon rose high in the sky under a blanket of deep blue speckled with diamond-stars, the three happy couples kissed each other as violins played and the credits rolled.  The end.

"Not so fast.  Aren't you forgetting something?"

Uh, the punch bowls are filled with raspberry sherbet and AB+, the cocktail weenies are all cooked to perfection, the king and queen are leading the rest of the residents of Sunnydale in a Conga line, you've got your honeymoon tickets to exotic Helsinki, Finland…

"Finland?!?"

It's winter there.  Daylight only lasts for about twenty minutes.  Thought it might be useful.  Anyway, the villains are out of the picture, everybody is living happily ever after; nope, can't think of a thing.

"Try again."

I already tipped the DJ, and the rabbi/Anglican minister/Catholic priest/pagan presider, and believe you me, finding one guy with all those credentials on a couple hours notice was not easy.

"Think back.  Chapter Seven?  Ringing any bells?"

Gave you the duster and the car, which has adorable little white crepe paper vampire bats hanging off it right now, by the way.

"You also gave me something else.  A promise."

Shoot.  I was hoping it'd slip your mind, what with all the bliss and stuff.

"Nothing doing."

Oh, alright.  As I promised, I will now reveal the contents of that little conversation.  In order to make up for my late arrival which resulted in your chippage, I'll ltunrttaneksty.

"A bit clearer, pet."

Fine!  I'm letting you narrate the next story!

As the other characters all gaped in horror first at the narrator and then at the blond vampire who held their collective literary fate in his hands, a particularly evil grin curled his lips.

"Buckle up, kids.  William's puttin' the hammer down!"

What have I done?


End file.
